


Reprise

by medical_mechanica, Verdin



Category: Final Fantasy XV
Genre: Age Difference, Alcoholic Prompto, BDSM, Canon Divergent, Dreamscapes, Goth - Freeform, Gun Kink, Gunplay, M/M, Marijuana, Older Prompto Argentum, PTSD, Past Prompto Argentum/Noctis Lucis Caelum, Reincarnation, Trauma Recovery, Underage Drinking, Unhealthy Coping Mechanisms, Young Ardyn Izunia
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-10-24
Updated: 2019-02-19
Packaged: 2019-08-07 00:30:56
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 20,808
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16398002
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/medical_mechanica/pseuds/medical_mechanica, https://archiveofourown.org/users/Verdin/pseuds/Verdin
Summary: Twenty years after the death of his best friend, Prompto still is not over the loss and wounds he suffered helping save all life from the Darkness. Still, life went on, and in his new position of political power in Niflheim, he still feels very much powerless.While trying to escape into old habits, he runs into a stranger that reminds him far too much of someone he very much believed to be dead...





	1. Chapter 1

“Hey, can you get me a drink?“

The boy tried a winning smile, brushing the red mohawk from his eyes. He was tall and lanky, in some faded band shirt Prompto remembered from his own youth, when he found them too dark and depressing. The place was pleasantly dark, the music full of guitars and not too loud, and usually folks left him alone. He was out of their age range, and not up to their fashion standards. Maybe he had started coming here because all the black reminded him of home, and the lyrics depressing enough to sometimes hit that sweet spot of nostalgia and melancholy.

The boy's eyes were black, completely so, and surrounded by smudged black eyeliner. _Just contacts, that's all._

Too bad it still made Prompto want to punch him in the face. 

"Why not do it yourself?" Another grin flashed to meet the boy's, this one true, if not a little worn around the edges. A beat as the other blinked in response. Who was he kidding, it was just some kid who was probably a few months off from 21. "Or are you more the type that likes when other folks buy you drinks?" It was suave, too suave for someone his age to someone that much younger. _Dammit, that prolly sounded like a pickup line?_

The old gunman was tired, and not really in the mood, even if the kid was probably cool. The redhead coughed up a fiver and placed it before him. “It's not about the money, okay? Just forgot my ID, that's all. I never was one to ask for favors.“ Scars on his naked arms in a criss-crossing pattern, some newer than others, still red and angry. And then, Prompto knew the boy was not okay. 

With a quick eye full of reassurance before a sly smirk, he pushed the money back. "Oh no, I got you. I hate when that happens." He leaned into the bar, trying to flag down a bartender. "What do you drink?"

It was wine he wanted, red and mixed with coke to make it palatable instead of sour, like life. 

Something about him was strange, even for the usual guests here. Neither the cuts nor the big words he had used, but in the way he-- no. Prompto couldn't quite place it. Strange or reminiscent of someone he had met or fucked or killed when the times were different, when he still had to show a rebelling world that he was the top dog of Gralea now and the kingdom of Lucis in firm control. The boy stayed for a little to drink instead of disappearing back into the club, climbing wordlessly on the barstool next to the older man. Clinked his nails against the glass then. "Half full or half empty?"

"You're asking me?" An aged giggle, that sounded more like a chuckle, followed the question. He downed his drink and quickly started on the second. "Unfinished. You?"

"Undecided. And wondering why I am drinking this, but then I think about the price and... oh well. It gets the job done, and that is probably what counts in the end, right?" He tugged a strand of red behind his ear. The old gunman blinked through an incredulous look, trying not to laugh at the kid. Definitely something about him that he couldn't quite pinpoint, something that almost made him feel half his age again. Shaking his head to himself, Prompto flagged the bartender over for two more drinks. 

After several moments, two whiskey glasses with a clear substance and one cube of ice each sat before them. The blond held one out to the redhead, taking one in his own hand.

"This’ll do you better. Mezcal. Take your time with it or you'll puke."

"Are you trying to teach me or to--" He took the glass. Sniffed it and wrinkled his nose. "You are sure this is made to be consumed? It is rather... interesting."

"It's made from agave outta Hammerhead. Liquid smoke." Another sip, and a grin.

"And you consider that a good thing?" A careful little slurp, and the smooth face curled up. "It surely grows on you after a while?” A curt snort. "Ha, no. You like it, or you don't." Despite his warning to the kid, he took a sizable swig from his own glass. They drank and sat in the heavy swirling bass that curved into a resounding eerie chamber rock, and the older man couldn't for the life of him pinpoint what it was about the kid.  
"Nice shirt."

He made it a point to sound sincere, too aware of how some folks in certain subcultures could be mean. He was too much of a punk, even in his age, to care about who wore what to where when. And it wasn't that Prompto didn't like people, he just didn't like assholes.  
Most people were assholes.

This kid didn't seem like one. Even if the contacts made him wanna jab the kid in the jaw.  
"Thanks." For the young one, it was a sip of mezcal and a bigger one of wine to get rid of the taste. Nervous hands with long fingers and nails painted black in an hopeless attempt to keep him from chewing. 

"Their music felt like home when I discovered them. Know what I mean? Something a friend gave to you before he left, because it was what you used to listen to when hanging out." Another smirk from the blond. "You don't say."

He wasn't too keen on sharing much, and just nodded. The band always struck Prompto as one you didn't listen to with friends, but only after they were gone. With a slight cough, he looked away into the crowd, mostly fabrics in blacks and occasional pops of teal or pink, before peeking back over at the kid. "Don't those hurt? Your contacts."

"Still okay. Will be a pain in the ass in a few hours though. And you do not agree with me. That's okay too. I may be wrong, and that _friend_ would rather be a virtual one anyway. I may just enjoy the idea of having shared them with someone." The kid went on, Prompto studying him.

"Sounds complicated." The alcohol was finally getting to his head a bit, and the way the red mohawk shone in the mimic'd LED candlelight was starting to drive him up a wall of familiarity. But he was so _young_ , and half of a century after having helped to save the world did things to the brain.

"A friend, you know? The kind that needs no words. No masks, no smiles full of effort to keep them bright. Heard those exist, even in these days." He laid his head down on the bar, peered through red strands as if through rivulets of blood.

"Well shit, you're _him_." Prompto realized flatly, before bursting into throaty laughter. He downed the rest of his drink and flagged for another in one smooth movement, the bartender seemingly on standby at the sound of the guffaw. "How the fuck did _that_ happen?" Prompto looked utterly curious, but still grinned at the other. No big words for that, just a little "Huh?" The boy blinked slowly, his fingers closing protectively around his glass.

"Egh, nothing. You just kind of look like a dead guy I used to know." _That I helped kill._  
"I'm sorry. Friend of yours?"

An odd change came over Prompto's face then, a dark cloud passing over the sun, and his expression fell. He took another sip of his refreshed drink in response, or rather lack thereof. "What about -?" He ran a feather light tap to the kid's scarred arms, watching carefully.

"Bad days. We all have those, do we not?" The boy raised his head just enough to empty the glass of liquor and immediately regret it. "Aw fuck man, that stuff is vile." He grimaced, and Prompto let out a laugh.

"Ha, I did warn you." A sigh, and a look askance. "This is so weird." Another grin and Prompto found himself taking the kid's hand. "To better days." And he downed his fourth drink. It took him too long to let go.

"Shall I get you a cab later or just drag you into some nice cozy corner?" The youngster pointed at the empty glass and stretched two fingers up, earning a nod from the barkeep. He was clearly with an adult now, one that was paying his tab.

"Are you -?" A studied look. A smug smile. The vaguely graying blond blinked, accepting the fresh glass. "Don't you worry, I know you got the height, but I have the years." _Always wondered what he'd be like as a normal person._ A look at the contacts. _Well, mostly normal._

"You have eyes, right?"

"Uh... yeah? I do think so. And I do think you have the intent to get pretty wasted, judging by the speed you're drinking. Since you were kind enough to invite me, I can at least make sure you don't end up in some gutter." His pale hand still lay on the bar, in the same place it had been when Prompto had grabbed it in a bout of nostalgia and loneliness, with a wide silver ring on the middle finger. "Just wondering." The room glided a bit under his feet. _Shit. Too quick._ It was embarrassing to be called out by someone so young, but Ardyn - well, this kid. He looked just like him. Sounded like him. And it made his chest ache. "And the other thing? You wanna take me to a corner somewhere?"

"So you can sleep in peace, and nobody trips over you--," for a moment his face froze. Right. One could read things another way. _Crap._ "Sorry if that came out wrong, okay?"

"Not like I'd mind of it was the wrong thing." Prompto muttered in spite of himself. The kid sputtered. "You--"

He could feel the boy's gaze through the black over his eyes, for the first time seeing the man as a potential _mate_ , feeling oddly objectified through the warm haze in his head. Not-Ardyn swallowed hard. Pressed out a hoarse "--you sure?"

Prompto turned to look out over the crowd, away from him, arms on the bar behind him. "Stranger things have happened."

"Maybe, but they rarely were pleasant. At least in my experience."

And yet, he was still _looking_ , checking out a body that was still wiry and strong, with Prompto taking care and being too stressed to let the chub of his youth return as he aged, while blue eyes cared to peek a look at back at him, locking gazes again. He took the hand still sitting on the bar where he had left it. The boy blinked away, wry smile on his lips. Prompto scoffed to himself a bit. 

"Of all people, it had to be you that showed back up." He muttered under his breath, rolling his eyes to himself again. "Do me a favor though?" He turned back to the boy. "Take out the contacts. It's a _little_ much" The wrinkle lined freckles crinkled as the kid made a face. "Uh, for me. It's personal."

"Oh well. Guess I can. Gotta wash my hands first, okay? Don't run away."

-

Jalvon stared at the cold water that ran over his hands. 

_A dead man. I remind you of a dead man, and you wanna get laid by me. By him, probably. That it, old man? Taking back lost chances?_

He was more drunk than he would like to admit. Any plans of grabbing a bite on the way here vanished into thin air when the folks came over and brought wine and weed, and after all, it had been part of the plan not to sleep alone that night. He _hated_ sleeping alone. It wasn't so much about the sex, even though that could be a bonus, but the light sleep in a stranger's arms eased the nightmares that tortured him since he could remember, dreams in which he was so lonely he couldn't stand to be it in the waking world. Why not do the old fellow the favor? He seemed nice enough, and the gloom that hid in his blue eyes touched something in Jalvon's heart.

He flinched as he took out the scleras. Breathed a sigh of relief then. Still not the most unpleasant thing he'd done to look cool... _Just gonna find one of the others and tell them who I'll be with, and then... we'll see._ A desperate grin towards the young face in the dirty mirror. He felt miserable.

-

Meanwhile, Prompto was left standing at the bar, drink in hand but holding off on it (finally). It was taking a while longer than he anticipated for the boy to resurface, and it was beginning to make him anxious in a way that didn't sit well with him.

_What are you doing? Why_ him _of all people? He's just some goth kid who doesn't know how beautiful he is, and definitely not the mass murdering asshole who might have succeeded in his life goal of ruining your best friend's life so long ago._

The guys wouldn't have believed it if he told them. Gladio, Mr. Dad now, with his brood, and Ignis a verifiable Head of Lucian state after the collapse of the monarchy. As for him... Prompto didn't want it to come up. The whole situation was far too strange, and the face and the eyes, hair, affectation, everything, it was too much, and 20 years of distance from the thing came closing back in like an ambush.

The kid was nowhere to be found, and although Prompto wanted to think he got what he wanted and left, _good please leave_ , he _wanted_ to see him again. And the aging blond's stomach turned.

He felt miserable.

 

A hand on his arm woke him from his stupor.  
"Hey..."

The golden voice he remembered so vividly might be in there somewhere, but the boy was lacking mass and the right way of breathing. The eyes were right though, glowing like polished amber in the blacklight, smiling about some joke only their bearer knew.  
"You sure this is what want?" Prompto’s brows raised in surprise, obviously not having anticipated the kid's return. 

Not-Ardyn was smaller than the real thing, maybe half a head higher than himself, and would probably not manage to tower over anybody even if he tried to. Torn black jeans and heavy boots, like he had helped himself to younger Prom's closet. He looked a bit helpless, a long-limbed puppy that still had to grow to a size matching his paws.

Face softening at the question, the greying blond slowly grasped the hand at his arm, coming to lead the Not-Ardyn into a half embrace, nodding. He moved to pull the kid into a full hug, but stopped. "You're name isn’t Ardyn, right?"

“Jay. Jay will do.“ No hand in Prompto's face, forcing touch upon him, just a boy waiting for a decision between closeness and distance.  
Prompto looked into his eyes then, hard, as of looking for something. Amber shone back, innocently.

"Hello, Jay. I'm Prompto, or just Prom."

Slowly, Prompto wrapped his free arm around Jay, definitely Not-Ardyn, and pulled him in close. Although it was almost a strain, the blond shot the kid a small smile and prodded him in the chin with his nose playfully, not quite kissing him, and left it at that, gripping onto Jay's waist as the music swelled.

“You gonna kill me, Prom?“ The question was a whisper into his ear, and the boy seemed baffled that he said it aloud. Reached for Prom's glass and emptied it, vile or not. A chill ran down the old gunman's spine, and he pulled Jay closer to him, pushing them together as Prompto nuzzled in reply, goosebumps raising on bare arms that could never stand sleeves. "If you want me to," was the breath in Jay's ear back, teeth grazing but just barely.

This didn't seem the answer the boy was expecting. He grew tense in Prom's embrace. "I-- I don't think so, no. You okay when I leave a trail of breadcrumbs to where we are going? Just in case?"

Prompto felt the tension and let his arms drop. He pulled away, looked around vaguely helpless, before ordering another round. "Oh yeah, of course." His nerves were getting to him.

"You-- you did that before? Kill someone, I mean?" The boy was still close to him, caught in an unhealthy mix of fear and intrigue. "You've been in the War, right? Lived through the dark times. Things were different then." Without a word, he passed another drink to the boy. "Yup." Prompto gazed away, avoidant.

"Shit. I'm sorry." That sounded honest enough. "I'm just brilliant in spoiling the mood."

"Trust me, it's not _you._ " _Or at least, not_ this _you._

Prompto looked back to the kid, grinning a wide distracting grin. "What about those breadcrumbs? Need me to call your folks or something?" 

"Already did that myself. Gonna keep them updated where I'm going and with whom. Way too many just, you know... disappear. It's probably fruitless, but at least they can light a candle where I took my last breaths. Something like that. Maybe we'll even be in luck and somebody cares." A shrug that told a decisive _Probably not_. "Wanna dance?" 

Six was usually Prompto’s limit, and he was at a hard five, but before he could say no, he was dancing with the kid, all limbs and movement in the low warm light that looked like so many candles. And he, just some old guy who must have looked awkward dancing up on the pretty young thing. 

Jay was swaying and stretching gracefully, a priestess offering herself to the Astrals in some Solheimian temple, gliding through the others on the dancefloor like a fish through a particularly dark coral reef, just not obnoxious enough to annoy anyone with it. Prompto couldn't shake the feeling he was dancing for _him_ , Salome enchanting Herod. Now and then the boy returned for a brief touch and a shy gaze that just begged to take him right there, onlookers be damned. 

_He's too pretty to be Ardyn._ Prompto sighed inwardly in an attempt to stop projecting, falling into more a state of awe as he watched. 

As the song, or was it the next, or the next, ended, the boy remained with him, hands loosely on Prom's hipbones, leaning into him, lips almost on his, again leaving him the final choice. His body was hot and sweaty against that of the older man. 

It was somehow fitting for the music to change into a soft haunting melody as a hand weaved fingers through soft dark red hair, bringing Jay's mohawk from out of his face. Prom let his hand linger as his other hand cupped the boy's face, running a tender thumb along his cheek bone, partially through the smudged black the lined bright amber eyes. Young and expectant. Still waiting. 

As the soft building melody crashed into distortion, Prompto pulled Jay down as he kissed him, hard. With an arm snaked around boney ribs, he brought him in close and didn't wait to deepen the contact. He tasted like alcohol and cinnamon chewing gum, and Prom's tongue found a the smooth metal of a piercing. It didn't take long for the boy to grow hard against him, and he kept moving his hips with the music as they kissed. 

With a sweet hum into Jay's mouth, Prom cradled the back of his head and pushed back into his hips and the pressure building beneath them. The urge to stop hadn't entirely fled, the last thing he had been expecting was to end up in the arms of the spitting image of his former sworn enemy in the form of an attractive young man just trying to drink away the pain of existence. And yet- 

This was so much better than the weird taunts, the uncalled for handsiness, the heavy tension, all of the confusion he was used to. Jay wasn't an asshole and Prom needed to believe that. He on the other hand- 

Was dragging the boy off to a corner behind some weighty red velvet curtains, pressing him up against the wall and kissing his along his neck. 

It took not much persuasion to do that, and a little “Bite me...“ came out with a moan. Jay's hands were gentle, sneaking under his shirt, his body writhing against his new lover, still _offering_ himself, as if the blood on Prom's hands aroused him, or maybe it was the touch of a stranger, or maybe their little hideout that made everything feel so much more forbidden. 

Soft flesh was pinched between the gunman's canines just under his ear, easing just enough before breakage. The sweetest little gasp at the pain, and stubby nails digging into Prompto's back, not to hurt, but to hold tight onto him. Prom was somehow inwardly thankful the Astrals had made the man shorter this time around, not nearly having to reach up and pull down as much as he rocked his hips upward, threading a leg between thighs. 

Jay's head was swirling, both from alcohol and the sudden onset of horniness that hadn't left much blood for his brain. This man felt _dangerous_ , and to know he had seen the cruelties of war somehow only made it better. A little sober part of him felt ashamed for thinking that way, but a way larger one lusted for more. 

Teeth glided down, nipping progressively. The way the kid was breathing in response only urged him on, and a hand came back up into the red mohawk and tugged Jay's head to the side. Prom didn't wait to leave an angry hickey. Tried not to remember the past, instead focusing on the way the the firmness pushing into him throbbed. The way the boy gave in so willingly let him think of snakes and rabbits, helpless and hypnotized, with him as the predator for a change. 

Tenderly kissing the welt he left, he brought the hand from red hair to the backside that fit perfectly into his palm and gripped. As Jay gasped, Prompto reclaimed his mouth, and keeping it busy as the form against the wall writhed. 

The lack of response on his end was starting to get to him, fortunately taking him out of his own head. The boy didn't notice, too caught up in the moment, his fingers drawing little signs on the sinewy back. 

_Mine. Mine. Mine._ something inside Jay repeated, like a silly old memory, and he opened his eyes to make sure he was still here and not in the dark place again. 

A low growl emitted from the older man's throat, the kid unaware that it was over the failed attempt to shove something between his legs that wasn't going as well as hoped. Prompto huffed in slow resignation, and a dark idea dawned on him, but he was unwilling to follow through with it. The poor kid wasn't signing on for his rage, but... Biting the boy's lip, he thrust and shoved Jay back up against the wall. 

"You wanted me to kill you?" Breathed the gunman into the kid's mouth, before turning his chin to bite at his earlobe. 

"What? Prom? Stop it, okay? Please?" The boy tried to push him away, risking a bloody ear in the process. 

It was enough to bring the blond back down, and he let himself get pushed back, alcohol not helping his balance. He seemed to come out of a fog, shaking his head. 

"I, uh, sorry..." Prompto cleared his throat, "Didn't mean to freak you out." Looking dejected, he shook his head to himself again and stumbled a few steps back, grabbing the curtain, moving to leave.  
"You don't want this." 

"I don't wanna die. I still want _you_ , but--," amber eyes wandered over the other, noticed his pose and the obvious lack of arousal, and he shook his head gently. Pushed down hard on the erection in his tight pants, swallowed the little yelp of pain, "--you don't. That's cool. Drunk decisions and all. Thanks for the drinks." 

"What?" Prompto, confused, followed the kid's eyes down to his now obvious lack of erection. "Oh, gods no, I got whiskey dick, kid." The aging blond shrugged with an embarrassed giggle. "It happens when you get old and drink too much." He softened, approaching Jay, who tensed up a bit. "I... I don't _actually_ want to kill you. I just want to.... you know... kill ya in a _little_ way?" He laughed, received no change in reaction, and realized the other hand never heard the saying. Wow, he is young. He leaned in carefully, not to scare, and whispered the meaning to the younger man, and leaned back. Looking up into amber eyes hungrily, he hooked a finger onto the waist of Jay's pants, biting his lip. 

"Can we, like, make out a little more first? And get a glass of water and some fresh air?" _Sober up a little, because we both could need it, and shit, how old are you even, maybe I should just piss off and not pull through, and--_

Prompto's face fell, although he smiled, giving a quick brush to the kid's cheek with his thumb. "Yeah, of course." Prom stepped away a bit, still a little uneven. "Are you- are you okay though?" A worry that made his voice sound years younger momentarily hit Jay's ears. 

The boy caught his hand as he pulled back. Held onto it. Shrugged. _Not really..._ "Shall we?" 


	2. Chapter 2

They ended up at a nearby convenience store, all florescent light that only managed to make the both of them look paler and more wan than they looked before.

  
Prompto sloppily slapped change down for some sports drinks and a few snacks, Jay standing awkwardly off by the door the whole time, before they wandered back outside. On the parking lot there the old gunman abruptly sat down on the curb to crack open the plastic bottle, urging the kid to sit with him as he downed the neon colored drink.

  
And the kid did sit beside him, with his head against the man's shoulder, crinkling a shiny packet of chips between his fingers. "Hey? Prom? Shall we go to my place, light up and listen to some music? You know, just... chill? You look like you need some rest more than anything."

A tired noncommittal nod from the older man signaled a 'yes'.

"Come, let's take a walk."

 

-  


Gralea, despite all of Prom's efforts, was still a shithole after the War. The damage done by the daemons and the army created by his genetic progenitor weren't easily fixed, even if he tried his best. Such things needed money, and Ignis made sure that it was Lucis first, and then there were payments to be made to Altissia and Tenebrae, reparations out of bad conscience and public opinion, while Niflheim and this city with it were firmly branded the _bad guys,_ even when though those who had been alive to perpetuate any of it were long dead.

The young folks from the countryside had moved in hopes of rebuilding, but it was a slow and painful process, even now.

  
They walked hand in hand under the ever-important streetlights, passing others that were still out partying. The boy had mumbled something about things not being far from here, but it would take them almost an hour to get anywhere. That Jay sometimes stopped to just _hug_ his new companion didn't make them any faster.

  
Prom knew better than to fear the dark, but he never quite got used to the ease of movement that most travelled with these days. He found himself peering at shadows, marred reflections in shattered glass, turning at sudden movements. Almost as if he was expecting a daemon ambush, and for his new friend to be a lie.

But no, the arms that clung to him stayed steady. Very warm and real, and as he brought a protective arm around the kid he could understand why Cor had done the same for him at some point.

  
Finally, the pulled up to a row of buildings, seemingly clumped together out of nowhere, but Prom could see where the rest of the block once stretched on. The front door had several locks, left overs from two decades prior, and Jay pulled out several jangling keys. After entering, they ascended a decaying stairwell, and Prompto tried to hide a concerned looked as he watched the other skip less stable steps without even thinking until they finally reached a landing not too far from a skylight at the top of the stairs.

“It's not much, but the rent is cheap, and it's better than nothing, right?“

  
Places like this used to be prisons for the working class, but now were mostly empty. Cheap indeed, basically not much more than water and electricity cost him. The roof was just a bonus. Prompto smiled at him, and was kind of glad he had decided not to try to ask Jay back to his place. "You have roommates?"

“Neighbors. Pretty much the same on our floor, really. We take care of the garden together.“ Again, a short smile, and again the question _You sure about this?_

  
A nod and they walked through the door, a look around the sadly sparse apartment, save for the bag of clothes and makeup in the corner. It reminded him of himself so long ago. Turning back to Jay before long, Prompto took the boy by the hand. "I can roll you a joint, if you're nervous."

  
They were on the top floor, in one of the apartments where the roof still held up. The view and the silence almost made up for the stairs they had to climb to get here.

 

"Should I be?"

  
The boy went and opened the windows wide, overlooking the nightly streets below. The greying blond joined him, and as he watched the way the distant lights of the city central shimmered, he realized he again was projecting his frayed nerves upon the boy.

A shrug, and he placed his hands on the prominent hipbones, dragging the warm body towards himself. "You tell me."

"See the tin over there?" A nod towards one black stack of fabric that might be towels or blankets. "Stuff's in there. Gonna put on some music." Still, he dragged Prom's arms around his waist, laid back against him. Smiling gently into Jay’s neck and prodding the earlier bruise with a nuzzle, Prom exhaled slowly and backed off.

  
Peeking into the boy's tin, he sighed, pulling out his own stash with accompanying papers, grabbing both and moving to sit on the floor to set to work. Noctis of all people had taught him had to roll, a secret that not even Ignis had known about the late king. They had been drunk in Altissa a lifetime ago, but the skill stuck, as long as Prom had was drinking.

Adding just a bit of his own stronger herb, he broke it up and carefully handled the paper deftly between his finger tips. Before long, Jay had come to watch him just as he had stuck out his tongue to wet the glue. Finishing, he smoothed it out and passed it to his host.

  
The boy meanwhile had indeed found them some soft, gloomy ambient thing with a woman quietly singing words in a language Prom didn't recognize. He had brought candles too, real ones, patterns carved into the wax, patterns like the gunman knew them from camp, and placed them around them. "Light the two on your side, will you?" He threw him a box of matches.

  
The older man squinted curiously before striking them up. "Where'd you get these?"

"The candles? Little DIY project, nothing more." A leery look to the _adult_.

Prom held out another match to Jay to light the joint. "I mean, I just haven't seen protective wards like these in a while." A little twitch of the boy’s plucked eyebrow. He hadn't expected to be taken seriously. Leaning in, he put it to his lips and inhaled. It caught, the smoke adding to the growingly mystical atmosphere of the formerly dingy room. The boy held his breath, got on his knees and tipped his finger on Prom's lips with a questioning gaze.

  
Biting the inside of his lip, the older man had to stop himself from saying 'not since the last time I saw you' and instead muttering "It was a long time ago." He took the burning cluster from the boy and inhaled, deeply, holding his breath more than warranted.

  
The room didn't wait to curl around him, walls fading into a haze before coming to, the candles holding the ground under them firm. "What? That's not - what?" He looked to Jay, just as curious. The boy exhaled. Shook his head.

  
"Did you never get a kiss like this?" came through the smoke.

  
A giggle and a blush, smoke already easing out of the weighted tension from before, and the alcohol having subsided from throwing off his balance. "Uh, not for a while, no." He looked to Jay, and contained a shiver as he met the amber gaze.

  
"Exhale and share my breath. You remember how this works, right?"

  
The feeling that wrapped around them, sitting between the candles, was one the gunman knew so very well. The camps had felt like this when Noct was still with them, in that blessed time when sleeping under the stars still felt _right_. After that, the glyphs had never offered the same feeling of a secure wall.

  
"Right."

  
He felt so much younger and entirely enamored by the taller redhead he barely knew all over again as he shifted closer to him, taking a deep hit. Before holding it long, Prom leaned in toward him, coming to bend on a knee. Wrapping an arm around the kid's waist, he brought his mouth before the others and exhaled. A raised brow and a nod. Lips on lips then.

Ardyn, no, Jay, Jay was his name, breathed in fumes, breathed them right from Prompto's lungs, pleasantly warm and humid, and it turned into a kiss, a proper one, tongues intertwining and teeth clacking as both of them started grinning just like that.

  
Prom always appreciated the way the substance managed to lift him up when he was down, and forgot how much he enjoyed taking someone along for the ride. He wanted to pull Jay onto his lap, wanted to run the kid through with his cock, but he was still only able to get to half mast even as they pressed up against each other needily. The earlier idea occurred to him and he tried to push it back down as he slightly groaned into his mouth.

  
"Your turn!" The boy let himself drop on the floor, legs spread, inviting him in. The world around him pulsed slightly with the music.

  
Blue eyes wandered over the candlelit form, a tender smile stretching over his lips that slowly curled into a smirk as he noted how much harder Jay was than before. The gunman sat down between his legs, running palms down the outside of his thighs and right back up the insides. "How are you doing?" Prompto took another drag, before handing it back to Jay.

"Good. You better though?"

  
A slow nod, and the joint was snubbed out, leaving the room in a haze of smoke.

"I have an idea, but I'm going to need you to trust me." The blond tried to look really reassuring. "Like," a deep blush, "you know what a safeword is?" Protective wards wouldn't make up for communication.

"Sure, but... Dude, I have no idea who you are, and..." Jay bit his lip, his libido being far more unreasonable.

  
A laugh, and Prompto bit the inside of his lip again nervously before deeply sighing. "You're right," he stayed put between the other's legs and straightened. _This is too weird. Too familiar._ Flipped.

  
"I never told you my full name. It's Prompto Argentum Besithia, the Lucian Ambassador." He tried to say as casually as possible, blocking out that day with Titan.

  
"Yeah. Right. And I'm... fuck, man, I have no idea about politics, okay?" the boy giggled, "Somebody important. Yeah. Little old me is somebody super-important."

Prompto climbed over the kid. "You have no idea." Another smile, and the gunman kissed him passionately, gathering him up into his arms.

  
Jay abruptly stopped after a little while of enthusiastic touches. “You don't mind if I moogle you, Mr Ambassador, Sir? Because if you aren't telling stories, there should be some hits with your face in them.“

  
A blush, and the aging blond sat up again, nodding bashfully.

_Oh, the guys would never believe him._

  


The boy dragged out his phone, a cheap and worn model with a couple of stickers on its case, and started typing. Looked. Stared. Counterchecked, just the position without the name. Took a deep breath. Leaned forward to fix Prom's hair to look a bit more like he wore it in his official functions. Said "Okay." Repeated that. "Okay. So you _are--_ well shit. We'll... take a picture together. I'll upload it to be send in, say, 24 hours if I don't stop it before. Then you'll tell me the safeword. Deal, Mr Ambassador?"

  
" _Please_ , just 'Prom'." He tried as the other leaned in for their selfie. He tried smiling, although it looked weak next to the honest way Jay smiled beside him in the candlelight. His younger self would have been ashamed, on so many levels.

It didn't get better when the boy turned his head for a kiss and another picture, and another one, his eyes closed, lens pointing anywhere but towards them.

  
Prompto knew well enough to take the phone and set it down, gathering red hair into his other hand and kissed Jay again. "Need any more photos?" He breathed, sliding his knees in between the other's thighs again as they sat on the ground, the older man poised to mount the kid.

  
The boy humped against him, still _dancing_ in a way, giggling madly about the absurdity of the situation, and he nodded half-heartedly. "To make sure this is not only a weird dream, yeah."

A soft hum, and Prompto took out is own cell, with admittedly a nice camera on it (as he had to avoid taking his own everywhere with him years ago), and ducked in to gently bite Jay's lower lip, snapping a few candids as he did. Showing his work, the photos looked terribly risque compared to the previous ones, and the gunman tried to ignore just how familiar the scene felt, and was relieved by the presence of the candles more than he should have been.

  
“Working with a pro here, it seems? That how you got your job? Looking good on cam?“ Two fingers zoomed into the pictures, looking at the gunman's face in detail. Prompto scrunched up his face in a way that read embarrassment, and avoidance. "Old hobby." He took his phone back from the other, moving his lips next to Jay's ear. "I can keep taking them if you want." A roll of his hips upward into the boy's to emphasize his point.

  
“ You really seem to _enjoy_ the idea...“ The boy's hand wandered down to Prom's hips where an old sleeper slowly woke to more and more new life.

"Haven't had enough nice things to shoot in a while." His breath fell heavier, catching in his throat as the pressure in his pants finally grew. Putting the phone down beside the other, he slipped hands underneath the younger man's shirt, slipping it up and over his head. There were more scars, all too terribly familiar, but they didn't deter the old gunman as his mouth found it's way back to the earlier welt, kissing it gently so that Jay's neck stung sweetly. No pain, not yet.

His hands wandered over scars, over acne and little silver rings on his chest. The boy had risen his hands over his head, wrists already crossed, ready to be bound or cuffed, all too eager to please his new lover.

  
"Safeword is..." Prom hated thinking these up. "Gysahl greens. And if you can't open your mouth, tap your cell on the floor." He placed the kid's phone close by. Looking pointedly into amber, his eyes shone in the light. He stopped touching him briefly. "Let me know if you have any triggers. Okay?"

“No whips. And... don't leave me alone if you tie me up, okay? Last time I... freaked out a little.“ A shrug. “Other than that, I must admit I'm lacking experience in the more _exotic_ corners of this colorful map of possibilities.“

  
Throwing the kid a reassuring smile, Prompto reached into a long boot and pulled out a small pistol, glinting in the candlelight. He held it out very cautiously and showed it Jay. With the other hand, he pulled out an old black bandana from a pocket, worn and faded. He placed the gun down next to the phones.

  
Prompto leaned in toward Jay, running an affectionate hand through red hair. "Can I blindfold you? I won't leave you alone, and I won't hurt you... any more than you want me to."

"Is that thing real?" the boy whispered. "I mean, it probably is. You care about self-defense, and you're an important man, and..." His voice faded.

  
"We don't have to do this." Prom withdrew, pocketing the fabric. He was putting a lot on this kid, but this couldn't have just been a coincidence. Jay's age- and well, everything about him, was _strange_ , but the aging blond needed to be sure. The whole thing was strange. It terrified Prompto, but his urge to make sure if anyone was going to put him through the wringer, it would be him.

"Gyshal greens. Okay." A heavy breath and goosebumps on bare skin. "Show me what you got, Mr Ambassador. Guess we'll see what I can take."

  
The freckled face that had come to be lined with so many wrinkles smiled a loving smile at Jay and scooted closer again. Pulling out the bandana, he folded it up quickly and brought it around the head of red hair, tying it snugly. Prom kissed the exposed forehead above the blindfold, before pushing Jay to lie back down. Experienced hands ran down his front, coming to rest at his belt buckle. Waited.

  
It occured to Prompto how much easier it was this way. For one tense moment, he could almost _feel_ the boy thinking.

_He's got a gun._

_He's going to kill you._ The dick under Prom's hands grew even harder at the thought, and Jay gave a very slight nod.

_For the Astrals's sake, touch me please, finally touch me, it's been so long..._

That was nonsense, and Jay briefly wondered where that came from, and the old guy wouldn't _kill_ him, of course he wouldn't, he had been nothing but kind, but the _idea_ of it turned up a valve, spilling unknown urges through his system that threatened to suffocate any resemblance of reason.

  
As he writhed just slightly, fingertips finally undid the clasp to his jeans, and with little effort finally freed the firm flesh as his waistband was pulled down, exposing him in full to the gunman. It took some work to take off the kid's boots, but after the effort left him completely naked apart from the blindfold on the floor.

  
“Ah fuck--“

Just as Jay could muse over the temperature of the air in the room, Prompto's mouth ran a solid line along his cock. Without waiting, the same mouth took as much in as possible, the blond hoping a decade of being rustier than not wouldn't read.

  
The boy groaned, his pelvis rising against the heat. He had trouble to refrain from grabbing two fistful of blond and grey and just _push down_ , fingers clawing helplessly into the floorboards.

Prom shifted weight, sitting beside Jay with a knee hooked over the other's, mouth somehow deftly remaining on the throbbing stiffness. A hand came to muffle Jay’s groan, gripping his jaw just hard enough to hush. It took surprisingly some effort for the blond to hold in a gag as he worked Jay deeply along, surfacing for air briefly.

  
Just as Prom could feel the hum of his voice against his palm again, he kneaded two fingers down along the kid's tongue, only further muffling the sound.

Licking and swallowing, allowing him in deep. _Good boy_ . He was so ridiculously hard, like only young men could be when they found something new and _exciting_ , and his body arched against his lover, wanted _more_ , more _heat_ , to get even deeper into that tight tunnel, moaning as teeth touched the swollen flesh. For several more long moments, Prompto went from just barely reaching his lips around Jay's base to gingerly sucking at his head in a steady fashion, before nothing. The hand at his mouth left, and the only indication the older man was still there was his knee still hitched over his.

  
What Jay couldn't know was that Prompto was very carefully emptying the bullets from his gun, tucking them into a jacket pocket before stripping off his shirt. He brought the barrel gently to caress the kid's cheek, over his jawline, coming to rest the tip just under Ar- Jay's chin. _Jay_.

  
A little whimper of disappointment that turned into wary silence, He held still, very still, lips red and swollen in the candlelight, shiny from saliva, were slightly opened, waiting for a kiss. The scarred chest rose and fell in delicate little breaths, a scared little bird in Prom's hand. Very slowly, the aged blond leaned in, tenderly kissing the boy, all lips and softness in the way one kisses a long lost love. The gun cocked.

  
A hand gripped Jay's shaft, languidly beginning to pump.

_He's gonna kill me._

_He's gonna kill me the moment I come._

_He's been waiting for this for so long..._

The boy felt hot tears running down his face, from arousal and fear and a despair that sometimes gripped him in dark nights and that never felt truly his own.

Salt hit the old blond’s tongue and he grinned into the soft mouth, deepening the kiss as he felt a sobbing sigh wrack Jay’s form. A long standing wish was being fulfilled, and with renewed vigor, Prompto proceeded to slowly quicken his pace.

  
The gun lingered.

  
The boy felt his orgasm building, deep and hard and gut-wrenching, his body somehow fully intent to make this one, this _last one_ , count for all he would not have in the little rest of his life.

_He promised not to hurt me._

_He promised--_

  


Jay's hand frantically reached out for his phone. _Somewhere here, somewhere, it had to be here, but--_ His hand hit the ground several times, trying to tap out like a fighter would when things became too much. And suddenly, all sensation stopped, the blindfold came off, and the gun was placed far away from the kid’s face. “Jay, _are you okay_?”

  
His eyes would refocus to a very concerned greying blond before him, sitting by his side.

The boy held sat up. Wrapped his arms around himself and tried to control his breathing, but all that came out were sobs and little hiccups as he gasped for air. A “dunno…” was mumbled somewhere.

“Can I give you a hug?” Prompto asked carefully, holding out a nervous hand.

A careful nod. That seemed okay.

Tentatively, the aging blond closed the distance between them, bringing the kid into a tight embrace.

“Sorry, okay?“ came between sobs. “It may have been a bit too... I do not know. I don't... Too intense? In my head? Way too intense, but--“

“Shhh... It’s okay. I shouldn’t have pushed you so hard. You just...” Regret welled up in the man, the boy’s voice cracking just enough to break Prompto’s heart. “I’m sorry.” He patted the head of red hair. “I wouldn’t hurt you.”

“Was hot though--“ the boy mumbled.

“Awww, we can try again later.” Prom pulled back, “When you’re feeling better.” A smile. A second, and the blond reached out, relighting the joint and passing it to the kid.

“Is okay, I think? And how are you, Mr Ambassador?“

“I’m good. Um, do you want to maybe call it for tonight?”

  
The sun was coming up, and the gunman yawned.

The young face dropped for a second. _Of course. I failed. You'll leave and chalk it up to another young moron being not enough to satisfy your needs. I... no, stupid, you do not need to prove yourself to him, even if--_

"Yeah. Sure." Cock still hard, weed between his lips.

  


“Do you mind if I stay? I mean, we can, you know... finish or later or?” For the first time, he was flustered, and came off with the same youthful edge as before. With a nervous chuckle, he grinned. “I wasn’t doing anything tomorrow.” He left an arm around Jay’s shoulders.

 

"I think you are lying, dear Prompto, but please, be my guest." A theatrical gesture towards the shadows outside the circle of light, where there might be a mattress hidden somewhere.

"And it's really okay, all that?"

  
Without urging, the blond hugged the kid to him again, scooting up onto his knees to do it. “Yup. And if you feel like waiting, I’ll even be able to get it up again for ya.” He kissed Jay’s temple sternly.

  
_Why are you so kind?_

"You're too sweet." The boy was cold, but preferred the man's warmth to clothes or a blanket. This unknown kind of lack of horniness was strangely pleasant. Prompto gazed into amber eyes, studying the boy. Wiped away what was left of the tears from his cheeks, coaxing smeared mascara into less of a mess. It wasn’t Jay’s fault the gods were cruel enough to bless him with that face, and maybe it was all coincidence. Regardless, the gunman wanted to ease the ache the kid carried, because it mirrored his own.

“So... D’you like cuddling?”

"Who doesn't?"

  
There was indeed a bed, or rather a mattress on the floor. Black sheets and a very old and worn plushy moogle that probably had once been white. The boy had insisted on washing his face and brushing his teeth before joining him there, and he brought water and pills. "Vitamins and minerals, for a better morning."

“Oh,” a laugh. “That’s actually a good idea. You’d think I’d be better at that by now.” Jay settled down with him on the mattress, and as he made his final preparations, Prom awkwardly sat. It had been years since he had crashed with another person, and he was trying to recall how it all went. He finally kicked off his boots, and stripped off the black on black he was accustomed to wearing until he was in nothing but his boxers. Also black.

  
It was only as Jay actually moved to lay down did it kick in for Prompto again, and he found himself waiting to spoon the kid, height difference and all.

He cuddled up against him so very willingly, cool skin soaking up his heat like the rays of the sun. Dragged the older man's arm over his chest and pulled the blankets up high. Sighed a content sigh.

  
"Where have you been so long?" _Fuck. What did I say there? And why are you--_ Jay felt himself growing again, just because this felt so nice, warm and homely. Usually, when he ended up here with somebody, both of them were spent or way too out of it, so that wasn't a problem. A deep blush rose up the back of the blond’s neck, and he was glad the boy was facing away from him. _Don’t you mean where have_ _ **you**_ _been?_

With a small snort in response, Prompto nuzzled into the kid, thumb caressing the scarred chest until it eased up. The older man had fallen asleep.

  
"Hey. Hey, Prom?" A whisper into the silent room. A cut off snore sounded behind him. “Hn?”

  
"You're too tired for some... you know... nice slow fucking? You know, oldschool and tender?"

It took several moments of silence before Jay would feel a very slow roll of Prompto’s hips into his backside, hand on his chest splaying out into a firm hold. “Sounds good,” came the breathy response, only vaguely still tinged with sleep.

  
Another beat, and a slowly growing firmness finally began to make itself known in between Jay’s cheeks with every progressive roll of Prom’s hips.

"Wanna let me do this for a change? Or that not up your alley?"

Another deep blush that graced his neck he was grateful Jay couldn’t see. “Oh, uh,” flustered, but now awake, Prom breathed, “no one has offered to in forever, but uh- yeah, that’d be nice.” Suddenly nervous, he turned to move.

  
"If you're not into being on the receiving end, it's cool, really." The boy had sat up as his side, fingers running down Prom's skin. “No, uh, I want you to.” He _did_ ? Prompto found himself stiff relatively quickly. He _did_. Turning to face Jay briefly, the aging blond kissed the redhead chastely.

“I want you.”

He turned back around, and took a deep breath.

  
"Close your eyes and enjoy yourself, okay?"

  
And the boy did his best to. Started with kisses down his spine to end up with a tongue between his cheeks, opening up the tight hole with wet caresses and eager tickles, one hand around the man's growing member, one around his own, grasping and pumping, allowing the tight ring of muscle all the time it needed to relax. Judging by his enthusiasm, how his spine arched and hips rocked, and the hard gasp that followed, he _was_ enjoying himself down there, too.

It took a bit for the older man to surrender, but he did, trying to enjoy how much softer the contact was from the way he remembered. Jay was being thorough, and through glazed eyes Prompto saw the sun paint patterns on the wall opposite of him. A window glued shut with layers of lace, keeping the room in twilight, and a tiny break as the boy searched for lube and a rubber, taking a big sip of water to get rid of a least a bit of the taste in his mouth.

  
There was a faint moan reverberating in the aging blond’s chest, and finally got a turn to look back at Jay just in time for the lube to hit him, sending a chill down his spine. Biting his lip, he reached out a hand to grab Jay’s as he could feel a warmth line itself up.

"You still sure?" Slight pressure against him, and a hand in his own.

  
“ Yes, _please_ .” _I missed you._

  
"Deep inhale, 'kay?"

Ardyn pushed, still as big as he ever was, but so much more gentle, patient, leaving him time to get accustomed to his size. Ar-- no, no, he was _Jay_ , mortal and scared just like him, and he was so unlike like every memory he had of men his size, not driven by selfish pride or athletic ambition, but by something Prom liked to imagine as actual _care_ . An expected keen left his lips as he felt himself _filled_ , relaxed and allowing the other in so much easily than anticipated.

  
Although he was loath to admit it, it was all due to memory. “Oh, _gods_ ” Prompto’s eyes rolled back in his head and he gripped the hip behind his.

  
For a few breaths, that hot thing inside him rested, letting any idea of pain subside. Started to move inch by inch then, a slow, tired rhythm, allowing the gunman to ease into it. Jay gripped unto his waist, securing a hold just above the ridge of his hipbone, keeping his lover's movement in check. Way above, in his dazed and confused head, the boy felt pleasantly empty. For these few moments, this heat around him was everything, and he wanted it to last as long as possible.

  
Prompto sighed happily, bending a knee higher so that Ar- _Jay_ could reach a deeper angle. “Yes...” he could see stars.

  
The younger man was taking his sweet time, being caught up in a world of his own, thankful for the slightly lessened sensation the protection offered. Dropped down his calves then, taking Prom with him, closing one hand around his cock and pumping it in his own rhythm. Noticing faintly that he _loved_ the gunman, still did, but had no capacity to make sense of that.

  
Prom brought a hand over the one on his dick, not changing the pace but intertwining their fingers. “Ar- ah, _Jay_ .” A sweet humming sigh left the gunman’s lips, and he cut himself off before ruining the moment by using the wrong name, trying to keep his eyes from sliding shut to stay in the moment. The boy's thoughts wandered back to the cool muzzle under his chin, the mindless, primal _arousal_ that flooded him when he realized what it was, and he looked down on blond hair and freckled skin and did his best not to come to early, not to come before the other had, but didn't manage, spilling into the tight hull of latex without making much fuss. Kept on pumping though, his hands tight in the other's skin, quickening his pace to give him the pleasure he deserved.

  
It wouldn’t be long before the aging blond joined him, a solid moan ripping out of his mouth with an unmistakably breathed “ _I missed you_ ” before the blond clamped a hand over his own mouth as a stream of milky white sputtered out and over Jay’s fingers. What sounded like a sigh or a whimper left the gunman and he hid his face into a pillow as he came down.

  
"I missed you too."

  
The words came out just like that, while he kept very still for a moment, finding the stretchy material and held onto it before he came out. Knotted the thing shut and threw it somewhere, dropping down on his side.

The blond fell to meet him, grabbing at his face and moving to kiss him.

  
After a moment, the boy pushed him away. "Don't, okay? Gotta wash my face first."

The blond gaped, flushed and nodding. “Sure.” Lost in a complete daze, Jay left him alone.

Hurried, Prom could hear it in his steps. Heard water running then.

  
The blond’s head was swimming now, laying down and blinking sharply at the sun shining through the lace overlay on the window. The anxiety that he was used to feeling after orgasm never came. Weird. In here, it was almost cozy. A small room with violet walls, colorful pieces of fabric pinned to them, cheaply embroidered with golden thread, sparkling in the errant rays of light.

The boy was back within minutes, laying down beside him, his arm outstretched, inviting him in.

Blinking dumbly, the greying blond rolled into the boy’s arms. Blue met amber again, red locks falling into his face, and Prompto shivered. _How did you find me?_ He wanted to ask, but held his tongue. Gentle lips found his now, tasting of soap and mint. Smiling. Saying "hey" under a breath, tired and satisfied.

 

“I probably smell like ass.” A tired grin.

"Only in the places that are supposed to." A little chuckle. "Nappytime?"

A breathless laugh, and a nod and Prompto drew into the taller form, tucking himself into the kid’s arm.

He was out in seconds, drool pooling in short order.

  


The boy soon followed into restless dreams.

 

 


	3. Chapter 3

Sometimes, after waking, Jay mused if his head would never grew bored of sending him into nightmares, or if he would ever stop _fearing_ them. This time, during the pleasant fog of alcohol and weed, it was something new. Something in the long corridors of a factory, where masked men stumbled mindlessly over metal grates. He couldn't leave, for one reason or the other, even though he wasn't bound physically for a change. 

It was almost as if the walls around him could breathe, and unlike most of the time, there was a breeze that passed around him, although it couldn’t be traced back to a source. No window or door seemed ajar. Yet still, the distant sounds of chains creaking and metal scratching against itself reverberated around him. He continued on, wandering in spite of himself. Across a darkened room, a light blinked, not a deathly red like he had dreamed so often, but a faded yellow, like sunlight. And so he followed it, and a new sound, not unlike wind chimes, could be picked out from the passing breeze. Just as he thought he neared it, Jay came across one of the masked men, tall and imposing. Fear lept up into his throat, before a strange thing occurred. Slowly, piece by piece, the metal shell began to give way, falling apart like an empty suit of armor.

_Well, this is new_.

He picked up a scrap of it, a glove, no, a hand, if there was nothing inside, it had to be the creature's _hand_ , and turned it in his own. Quickly dropped it as it started moving.

And just so, the pieces continued to slowly give way, and the boy could only remain fascinated, and felt stuck. Helplessly watching as the thing in front of him slipped away, the pieces scattering, skittering away from him as if pulled by a large magnet.

 

It was only then he felt allowed to move forward, drawn again to the far off distant light. The walls shone red, and the screeching metal continued, but the usual high pitched frequency of anxiety didn’t seem to reach him as before.

Hands.

There had been something about hands.

_Focus on them, idiot._

He had learned something times ago, had he not? Something _important_.

 The hairs on his arms seemed to stand on end as the breeze ran cold. The room was then a large field outside, still as dark as ever, an inky expanse stretching on above him, but as close as a high ceiling. Almost suffocating, despite the stillness.

It was snowing. The distant light was then a window, in a far off tower, blinking off and on erratically.

 

 

The ambassador, too, was dreaming. Dreaming about Ardyn, as he so often had in the last years, reliving a memory that had taken place a few years before Noct came back, or never had taken place at all. By now, he wasn't sure anymore.

He had been in the desert when his car broke down, a little side road about three days from the safe haven of Hammerhead. Not doomed to die, no, no, he couldn't die before Noct returned, but caught alone in a dark place filled with monsters.

 

The bright cone of headlights washed over  him. A horn honked.

 

This part felt the same, as it always did. Relief washed over him and he ran up to the lights. A truck waited for him, door open, and he swung on in, landing on the seat with a slight bounce. Now is where his heart stopped, eyes landing on the familiar brim of a hat behind the wheel. His heart sank.

 “ _Ardyn_.”

 Usually, this is where one of two things happened. The first, was that he readied his pistol and fired. The second, was the cool breath on his face before lips met his own. This time, something new happened.

 “... Jay?”

 The boy grinned, slightly more teeth in his mouth than there should be, or not, no, it was just a trick of the amber light that came from the dashboard. Jay's hair was long and curly, covering his chest, the pale skin of the naked body. Ink under the milky surface, forming patterns Prom couldn't quite make out.

 

Before Prompto could contemplate further, they were moving, eyeing the dashboard as he realized he had mistook it for a truck. Another trick of the light, and stress, because they were in a car, one he had fixed up hundreds of times at Hammerhead. He could feel the motor in his legs, engine sending them careening down the eternally stretching length of road headed toward the Crown City. “Have you been here before?”

 The figure beside him remained silent and he tried not to eye the ink working its way under the kid’s skin. Surely he was just seeing things.

“Let us go home, shall we?“ the golden voice asked some miles later. The landscape around them was flat and barren and might as well be stretching into eternity.

_Letters_.

The ink was forming _words_ , and those seemed _important_ , untold secrets, buried and forgotten under the sands of time.

“Jay,” He repeated, needing the figure beside him to be the boy and _not_ the creature he appeared to be with each passing moment. “Maybe we should stop.”

 

Nothing.

 

“Pull over.” Prompto tried again firmly, panic seeping into him. Still nothing. “... _Please_.”

 “You've gone too far a long time ago anyway, old man.“ A crooked smile. Izunia smile, cursed smile, and a whimper came from the gunman's throat before he knew.

A reach and a sharp grab of the steering wheel, feeling the weight of the momentum throw them as the car rolled out, but the dashboard faded and they spun out together into the void. The inky expanse welcomed them, and the gunman couldn’t help but fold himself around the kid to protect them, expecting to hit ground.

 

Instead, Prompto awoke, hugging Jay to himself tightly.

 

The boy came back to reality with a sharp breath and the usual instinct of self defense, but managed to stop himself before hitting the arms that caught him.

A part of him was still _there_ , slowly being encased in one of the empty armors himself, and the metal felt heavy on his shoulders.

“ _Jay,_ ” came a soothing whisper into his ear, arms falling away. “It’s okay it’s okay.” Prompto backed off as the kid awoke, still blinking hazily himself.

“Sorry--“ A tired mumble, and a cold hand stretching out to touch blond and gray. “Woke you?“

“No, just, _weird dreams_.” With a self conscious chuckle, he smiled at the kid, trying not to remember the glint in the amber eyes from the dream.

“Same.“ A nervous smile. “Remember any of them?“

 

The gunman shrugged, and they both looked at each other with such apprehension for a heavy moment as the kid’s long fingers played with the greying blond hair. And just as quickly, it passed, and Prompto affectionately gave the hand by his face a squeeze.

“I write mine down most mornings. Makes it easier to let them go.“ A kiss on Prom's fingertips.

A sad look passed over the gunman’s face briefly, before he leaned in, tenderly placing his lips on Jay’s cheek. “Sounds good, you do that then and I’ll.... where was your bathroom again?”

 

The boy showed him, seeming a little disappointed by his reaction or rather the lack thereof.

Some moments later cold water splashed over  Prompto’s face. The water ran as he eyed himself in the mirror, trying very hard the banish the apprehension that sat in his gut. His trigger finger wanted to itch, and he didn’t want the kid to see him agonize. Several deep breaths passed out of his chest slowly.

 “He’s just a kid.” The aging blond mouthed to himself.

 

After a pause, he exited, looking to Jay and smiling like the sun.

The boy was sitting cross-legged, fully focused on writing with neat, tiny letters. Saving space on precious pages. The rosy tip of his tongue was firm between his lips.

The gunman wandered over slowly, carefully, avoiding disrupting the knocked over candles, books, and other paraphernalia as he made his way back to Jay’s side. He watched on, noting the pages and pages already spent by ink, blinking away the pull in his brain as he tried to recall the words that seemed to form on the dream Jay’s skin. No, not dream Jay. _Ardyn_.

 He sat comfortably, waiting for him to finish.

 

The boy took his time. Looked over to his new lover watching him and furrowed his brow.

“Say, Prom, have we met before? In a club or something?“

“I mean, I don’t get out much. Prolly at that club or something.” Prompto hid the blush growing on his face, looking around for something, to look anywhere else. “Why?”

"Just a strange feeling of déjà-vu, really..." A shrug with bony shoulders. "Thought it was just the mood yesterday, but somehow it's still there. But maybe I just saw your face on the news or something, found it cute, but forgot it immediately, because way too far from everything."

 Prompto wanted to tell him, wanted to sit him down, take the boy by the hands and _tell him_ how they knew each other. In the blond’s core, he knew who Jay was, but it wasn’t for the kid to know. Instead, blue eyes fell to the snuffed out candle wards from the night before. “Yeah... prolly something like that. Uh, do you have coffee?”

"Sure. Don't think there's milk left though."

 

There wasn't, but where they had their coffee made up for it a little.

 

In the middle of the story, where the roof had crumbled down, those that lived here had torn out the walls and created a garden over the rubble. Some flowers, but mainly vegetables and fruit, and even two beehives in one corner, surrounded by bushes of wild lavender. This was the most actual _life_ the ambassador had seen in a while, and as he drank the black broth, the boy started tending the greens, cutting a bit here, tugging some more there.

The sun was still up, and actually shining then, even if it was already later in the day. As the aging blond rounded the scene as he worked, the light shone through wine colored hair, highlighting the amber in his eyes behind full lashes. Something in Prompto’s chest shifted, and for the first time in ages he missed his camera.

 

“Jay, I...” he trailed off, embarrassed and in awe.

 

"Not too bad, right?" The boy beamed, wiping his forehead with dirty fingers. "Had no idea about gardening, but started reading, and it turns out I got kind of a green thumb." It was the first time there was unabashed pride in his voice.

“It’s beautiful.” The response was surprised, and Prompto smiled at the kid as he caught his eye momentarily. “You don’t see a lot of greenery around these parts.”

"No space down in the streets, and no money or will to make a garden on the roofs. Not easy to get good earth here when you don't have a car, and then you need tools and... guess we were just lucky, and I _really_ wanted to do this. Felt like the right thing, you know? Being surrounded by stuff that needs your care."

 “Kinda makes me wish I brought my camera.” The gunman took a sip of his coffee, squatting down to examine where the earth began and the concrete faded.

“Guess you’re a white mage, huh?”

"Trying to, at least." That sounded strangely sincere. "Wanna take some neat macros of the bees or what? They'll surely let you if you ask nicely."

Prompto blinked. He had no experience with bees, before, during, or after the apocalypse. “What?”

"Pictures. Of bees. From up close." Jay repeated slowly. "Aren't they called that?"

“I just, uh,” Prompto shrugged. “Haven’t seen them that small ever. Last time I saw a bee, it was, well, big, and uh, trying to kill me.”

"Never ever? Really?"

 A nervous laugh erupted from the blond as he shook his head. “I was never too into bugs.”

"The small ones are really nice as long as you're chill, you know? Do not make them feel like you're attacking and you can get through with a lot." Jay stretched out his hand and allowed one of the little creatures to make her way from a blossom onto it. "Bit like with politics, really, and you're just taking their honey for their own good. Right, Mr Ambassador?" Sudden bitterness in the golden voice.

 

The few steps Prompto had taken toward the behind stopped at the last phrase. “I guess you could put it like that,” came the flat reply.

A breath, and another few steps over to Jay before he came to study the insect on the kid’s hand, still wary. “I didn’t bring my camera.” He muttered to himself.

"And you don't make the rules. I understand that much." A short, sympathetic smile. "And you brought your eyes. Sit and watch her for a bit, she doesn't mind."

 

The little creature had stopped wandering and started to clean her wings with utmost care.

It wasn’t hard for the gunman to become fascinated by the process, admittedly far more at ease around the tiny thing with the boy there. He came to sit beside him, occasionally sipping the coffee which was fine, and tried not to think about what his next meeting with Ignis might sound like.

‘I saw a small bee and some plants and we need more money for Gralea. Also, I met a cute boy who might be Ardyn, no biggie.’

He’d tweak it before then.

 

"She's really pretty, isn't she? And you don't need to worry about her. As long as you don't appear to be attacking the hive, you're not of interest. Gimme your hand, will you?"

Eyes that had wrinkled around the edges widened, but he older man complied, coming to hold out his hand. It was silly, he was vaguely shaking.

"Would you do me the favor, my lady?"

 

She _would_ , it looked like. Stopped what she did and started crawling, over Jay's fingers toward the palm of Prompto's hand, her tiny legs tickling on his skin.

With a sharp inhale, Prompto came to hold his breath, biting his lower lip.

“What -uh, what do I do now?”

"You wait and watch. Be patient. That's... difficult for you, is it?" His fingertips remained on the gunman's palm.

Eyes darting to Jay briefly, Prompto let out a nervous laugh. “I’ve gotten better at it over the years.”

"Is she scary, this one?"

 

A long pause, while she seemed to explore the lines of Prompto’s palm. The sunlight hit them both so perfectly that it reminded Prom of the perfect arrangement of an old painting.

 He shook his head. “No, she’s nice.” The surprise in his tone took him aback.

 "If you have seen enough and she can continue her work, say thank you and goodbye. Your decision, and hers." Amber eyes focused on the bee, not on the human.

A quick nod, also focused on the bee, and the blond set his face firmly. “Thank you, lady-bee, it’s been real.” And almost as if she had been waiting, she took flight, lifting from his hand and returning to the hive.

 

The two of them watched after her, and Prompto laughed a smile before looking back to his host. They locked eyes and the wrinkled  freckles blushed. “Uh, thanks.”

"Our pleasure, I guess. It's just polite to introduce new guests of the house, right? After all, the Queen might want to know about you. It is not every day we have visitors of your stature." A cheeky little grin and the lingering feeling the boy meant just what he said.

Carefully, Prompto leaned in and kissed Jay, eyelids fluttering shut.

 

The boy's lips were playful, almost chaste, not truly allowing him in, but pecking and teasing and nibbling, both of his hands on the gunman's cheeks, gently holding him back.

It was silly.

Prompto swooned, and he felt like a teen again. And too quickly it ended, and the sun had moved, leaving them in indirect sunlight as opposed to the previous picaresque moment. He pulled away, looking bashful.

 

"Hey? Where are you going?" The redhead was taken aback. "Everything okay?"

“Uh, yeah. I, uh, I mean, it’s just been a while since....” Since _what_?

If he _had_ been a teen again and some old guy was having problems with his feelings after making out with him, he would have just laughed in his face and told his friends about it later over King’s Knight. Noct woulda...

 

The blond hit a wall, and he stood up.

 

“Uh, you don’t need an old guy like me bugging you all day, right?”

"Only need to be at work in a few, but if you... I mean..." This time, it was the boy blushing. "Sorry. I'm kinda a creep sometimes. And a dirty hippie." _And now you leave and don't come back. It's okay, man. It's okay_. "But you got important stuff to do, right, Mr Ambassador?"

Prom was old enough to sense the apprehension in his tone, but the blond needed the space. To _think_.

 

“Listen, Jay.” He knelt back down to the kid, brushing hair from amber eyes. “ _I_ am the creep.” A sad grin. “I do need to leave but... can I see you again?”

 


	4. Chapter 4

_Yes._

Of course the boy had said yes, and gave him his number without asking for Prom's in return. Ball in his court and all, and to keep himself from calling a man he still believed to be nothing but a one night stand, for what else should he be to him but a nice piece of meat in a lonely night?

Prompto meant to call.

He did actually _mean_ to call. Getting tied up in meetings, pushback from the Lucian council over funding. At least he had successfully managed to tweak his pitch. He was vaguely successful, enough to make sure that greenspace was next on the list of topics to cover in the Crown City.  
He might have touched base with Ignis, leaving out his interlude with the boy.

The same boy he had _meant_ to call.

It had been two months when Prompto awoke in a cold sweat. His dreams left him stuck, drowning in the Vesperpool so many years ago. That was why, in place of a call, Jay would come home to a stack of fresh roses, inky black, but pristine, with a small card that read _J_ , a place and a time.

It was only when Prompto arrived at the remains of the desolate collection of War Mausoleums, bottle of some fancy Lucian wine he had stashed away in his closet in hand, that he realized he never actually _called_ the boy.

So he stood, panicking in his slim black slacks, happy he at least wore an ancient band tank to absorb the sweat he felt forming on his back. He was an idiot.

Finally, he dialed the kid, trying not to choke.

It rang.

Kept on ringing.

No answer, but just as the thought of just giving up and going home took root in his head, the pleasant chime of a text startled him.  
_“Who do I have the pleasure of speaking with?“ ___

____

“Jay, it’s Prompto.” A beat, his voice flooding full of relief. _“I’m sorry I meant to call sooner. Uh, did you get my card?”_

 _Voicemail? Srsly? Card? You mean... the bouquet?_ The answer came fast.

Prompto finally reverted to typing.

_Yes. I’m so sorry._

Several moments, then he added _I’m dumb._

_Busy, probably. U still there in 30?_

Prompto shrugged to himself, not that it could be seen.

_Yeah ___

____

_Wait for me_ , and, a second later, a little _ <3 _

And so the aging gunman sat, feeling a fool and trying to ignore the way his heart leap in his chest. A light rain had started to fall again, and autumn lay heavy in the air. An old soldier drowning in melancholy, bones as heavy as lead.

Thirty minutes had been quite accurate when long legs made their way over the cobblestone of the forlorn place.

“Prom?“ The boy looked around, lost in a giant black woolen coat made for a man twice his weight. A passing resemblance to the drapes the chancellor had worn, if one wanted to see it, even if it lacked all ornate patterned nonsense.

Prompto did a doubletake, quickly standing. His shoulders only slightly damp in the rain.  
“Jay!” He was so relieved, and yet still on edge. Approaching the younger man, he stopped just before him. “Can I hug you? _I’m so sorry._ I should have called-workhasbeenbusyandIdidntthink-“ With a blush, he cut himself short, holding out the bottle.

The boy just hugged him instead, drowning out his words in wool. A smell of patchouli and wet dog, and a long kiss on his temple.

Prompto returned the hug tightly, burying his face into the kid’s coat. It lingered, an odd tingling bubbling up inside him. Before he could let it grow, he let go.

"I still remind you of him, is that it? The reason why you called, and why you didn't call?" Head slightly tilted, mohawk peeking out limply from under a checkered flatcap to keep away the weather, and nothing in his voice but mild curiosity.

Prompto’s blood ran cold. He had never considered it, not consciously.

Jay hit the nail on the head. It stung. Stung in the way his words did when they were his a lifetime ago, about a mad scientist and his strange discovery.

He sighed, about to protest, but instead brushed the kid’s cheekbone to kiss him.

"Shall I pretend to be him? Give you the chance to do what you wanted?" _It would be the honest thing to ask me, old man, instead of telling yourself this is about me in any way._

There was still a smile in his amber eyes, even if sadness might be lurking around the corner.  
The blond sighed, pulling away sharply and spinning on his heel in exasperation.

“You _are_ him.” It slipped from his lips helplessly, tired blue eyes distraught. “He’s been dead as long as you’ve been alive. And I-“ the older man’s voice caught, “I hated him.” Just as Jay bristled, Prompto held out a hand.

“But not _you_. You’re not him. You’re not trying to kill me, Noctis, or end the world, are you?” Prompto sounded insane, but the dam breaking sent a sense of relief through him.  
"So... it was gonna be a hatefuck, but...?" Jay tried breaking to the outburst into manageable bites. "And no, I'm not trying to end the world or kill anybody, like, really not. More like the opposite--"

“I _love_ that about you.” Prompto just blushed, staying away and looking off. “I wanted to call.”

"You _are_ kinda weird, dude, but I guess you know that, mh?"

“I got more funding to fix some of the roads around these parts, and it’s a long shot but I’m pushing for more greenspace here in Gralea. I know it’s not much but... it took more work than it should have.” Prompto shrugged, still unable to look the boy in the eye.

"You-- really? I mean, really really? You do such things and send me roses and I look like a guy you hate and..." Jay's voice trailed off, and he took a few hesitant steps, just to not be standing around helplessly. "... you sound very different in your interviews, you know?"

“I _like_ you. And it’s been awhile since I’ve...” _Cared._ “Wait, you looked me up?”

"Maybe?"

“What, uh, what did you find?”

This changed things, but not by much.

"Just your official bio, and a few snippets with a cam on your face talking politics. And some shopped porn from the days of your youth. At least I guess those pics aren't real?" A slight grin, and a hand that reached for the freckled one.

“Nothosewerereal.” Prompto said bashfully, taking the kid’s hand in kind. “But you didn’t hear it from me.”

Amber eyes washed over his body, and he heard a mumbled "Hot." Jay coughed. "So... you and a prince, mh?"

A sad smile curled his lips, and the gunman unconsciously squeezed Jay’s hand as he gave a nod. “King, technically.”

"You liked him a lot, right?"

“I woulda died for him, if he let me.” A laugh that bordered on bitter escaped his mouth.  
"Wanna walk and drink and tell me a bit about how it was with him? It's a nice eve for a walk." 

_Must be hard to have two men you can never touch with you all the time, and this place basically feels like a graveyard anyway. Is this romantic for you, Mr Ambassador? Dead flowers and dead places?_

Another laugh, and Prompto let go of the kid’s hand to pull out a corkscrew. They had started walking the long row of old decaying structures that looked more like the folks they housed instead of the monuments they were meant to be. Built in the years following the war, they were mostly more notable figures and glaives that had passed during and after the fall of the Empire and the power vacuum that ensued. Now they were dusty, overgrown or underkept. Deadened trees lined the area, and for all intents and purposes, the area was depressing.

Nonetheless, the cork came out with a dull pop, and Prompto just took a swig right from the bottle, holding it out to the kid.

“Didn’t really bring glasses.”

"You brought a corkscrew. Qualifies you as a reasonable adult, that's good enough."

It was the first time Jay tried what was considered _good wine_ , and he tried his best to understand what the fuss was about, searching _subtle notes_ and _fragrances_ and finding only a liquid that wasn't quite as vile as what he usually had in clubs. Still would have been better mixed.

As they passed by what was once probably a beautiful carved statue of what looked like a bird, eaten away by acidic rain and time, the gunman made a face.

“Being around the guys was...” he shook his head, lost in thought. The bottle was passed back to him and he took another long swig. “Honestly, at first it sucked because I was convinced that they hated me - probably did for a bit actually, but Noct...” the aged blond sighed. “He never actually hated me. I was just a dumbass.”

A pause and he stopped walking for a step. “Being together was like breathing.”

The boy nodded slowly. "That's an experience most of us wish for, probably. Finding a lost part of yourself in another being,"

“Yeah,” Prompto agreed half heartedly. He didn’t feel like explaining the other, stranger part of the story that included a lab full of clones he had escaped from. That could wait.

He handed the bottle back to Jay and tried to perk up, ready to change the mood.

“What about you though? Busy few months?”

"Always. There's harvest time coming and going and I needed to help out others with making things ready for the winter, and there's work to do and--" _Prayers to be done, no, don't say that out loud._ "I'm just really happy to see you again, you know?"

A stupid blush rose across old freckles, and Prompto let out a shy chuckle. They came across a more hollowed out structure, since entirely looted, door open and content emptied when the rain began. If there had been any shy first drops, they went unnoticed, but now it poured down like an angry Ramuh had opened the floodgates. With a surprised hiss, the blond urged the kid under the old mausoleum roof. Gingerly, he held out the near half empty bottle up to Jay with a half grin.

The boy drank and leaned against the wall. "You sure are cold, and--" He opened up the huge black coat, offering a cozy escape from the weather.

Prompto was terribly underdressed for an adult, and only waited a beat before stepping into the warmth of Jay’s coat. Sleeving his arms around his waist, the blond grinned a full grin up at Jay, loosened up by the wine. He actually appeared _happy._

"Does somebody usually put out your fancy suits, Mr Ambassador? Going out like his, you'll catch a cold or worse." The boy wrapped the fabric and his arms around him.

Prompto thought to the hapless personal assistant he had hired a few years back who did exactly that, and he made a face. His younger self would have been ashamed.

"You need to take better care of yourself, you know?" Lips started to wander over the gunman's face. "But it's hard to think of that when your heart cares more for everything else then your own wellbeing."

Prompto’s breath fell short as the boys lips lingered, eyes fluttering shut. A soft sigh escaped between them. The rain kept falling, the boy’s body so warm. For the first time in a while, he relaxed.

"You don't eat enough, and you don't sleep enough, because you're stressed, and you are... scared?" the boy continued quietly, like reading from a note with unruly writing. _No, no, please, don't show me this, I wanna fuck him, not be his mom. Not again._

Prompto made a face at him, and laughed. “Says the starving hippy.” Gently, he leaned Jay back against what was once a monument, dropping the bottle in hand carefully down before wrapping an arm around his neck. “Do you want to go out for dinner... or back to my place this time?” The aging blond shot off a flirtatious look, nearly batting his eyelashes. If Jay thought about it he could have looked like one of those old videos that had come up before in conversation.

“Take a walk and grab something on the way? Or do you feel like cooking? I mean, you got a kitchen, right? Or, you know... stay here until the rain stops and...“  
Prompto's mouth was on his, tasting of wine and yet damp earth, though the latter was probably just the scent of the whole area. It wasn't a sloppy kiss, but it was longing, and the blond's tongue was eager. The hand at Jay's back flattened, urging them closer. "Dunno, I just missed you," muttered Prompto into his mouth, eyes shut and sighing.

The boy had missed him too, and so had the thing between his legs. Soon it was back to rubbing and humping, with Jay trying to control himself as he noticed what his pelvis was doing, hiding his face in shame in blond hair. "Sorry..."

Prompto didn't mind, only having to edge up on his toes a little bit to meet Jay's affection. Also, fortunately, the aged blond actually had an easier time of finding himself firm at the attention this time around. "It's good..." Another breathy nod and he pulled himself back up, finishing the rock of Jay's hips with his own.

"If you wanna have me last any time tonight, I promise--" Stopped. Repeated "Prom-ise" and started to giggle.

With a snort and a blush, the blond eased up. "Promise what?"

"-- that I'll disappoint you. Either we ease up on this or we finish this once and you give me, like, half an hour for a second go. Yeah. Not really romantic. I know." He grinned awkwardly.  
Blue eyes looked up at him admiringly, before Prompto stepped back a bit. Adjusting the erection in his slacks to be more bearable, he shrugged, still smiling. The rain eased up. "I'll just call for a car."

"I was..." The boy was studying the steelcaps of his boots, "...kinda hoping for the second alternative, you know? Something between dust and dirt and dark alleys..." He bit his lip.  
That alone was enough for the blond. With a quickness, he was at the boy, clamoring up, all hands sleeving back into the coat and up and pulling him down. Prompto gently bit at his lip, hitching up a knee and planting the sole of a shoe onto decayed curving stone.

Jay went down fast and nimble, playfully clawing after the blond. Reaching for the bottle, swallowing, coughing, swallowing more, and trying to get rid of his pesky pants.  
Teeth grazed over his pulse again as he got help with his pants from the blond, who shimmied them off of his backside. The stone beneath them was cold, offset by the warmth of the older man over him, taking his cock in hand. It was sweet, teenage-romance-sweet, and Prompto let out a happy sigh through his nostrils, despite his fumbling his own belt open.

"Not afraid of getting caught, Mr Ambassador? Being in newsfeeds sucking some young punk's cock, desecrating a historical monument? Scandalous, don't you think?" The boy felt his balls tense up, even though that might be mainly from the coldness he felt through the wool.  
Peering back up at him, Prompto grinned cheekily at Jay. "Is that your way of saying you want me to suck your cock?" With a solid stroke, he brushed fingertips just down over the tensing skin, gaze locked.

Jay shivered. In the gloom here, his face half-obscured, he almost... "I certainly would not mind, if you would show me that kindness?"

Biting his lower lip, Prompto nodded, thumbing a bead of precome. He pushed up Jay's shirt, mouth wandering the skin just above and just below his navel. Hand still gripping the length of him, Prompto dragged the skin forward over the ridge of his cock. With a pause to admire the redhead, he turned to take a swig of wine, shooting him a playful look and passing it back.  
The boy was grinning and hiding his face behind a hand, clearly very much not used to being looked at from that perspective, or with a gaze like that. "Pretty please, Mr Ambassador?"  
The glance lingered for a beat longer, before the greying blond smirked. In one smooth motion, he ducked down, lips and tongue and mouth coming to envelop the length of his lover, jaw shifting before he tilted his head and came up. Running his free hand toward Jay’s holding the bottle, Prom slid his mouth back down, gently hollowing out his cheeks. He placed the bottle back down on the ground, before returning his hand back up to the kid’s, gripping it while the other moved along with his lips, sucking diligently.

The bony hips bucked against his endeavors, and soon a hand got tangled in his hair.  
“Gods, Prom, this feels so _nice_...“

_You've done this before, because you felt obliged, not because you wanted to. To keep the peace. To feel loved and needed. No, no, no, I don't need to know this. Why are you still so very lost? And why does it feel like I'm to blame?_

He sat up and curled over the gunman's body. Whispered, “You promise you don't hate me?“  
The whispered question gave the man pause, and he shot a curious look up to Jay mid-stoke. Cock still in his mouth, his eyebrows went up in concern. With a slight pop, he let go. “I opposite of hate you.” He squeezed Jay’s hand tighter, interweaving their fingers. After a reassuring beat, he tentatively ducked down again, giving the member still in his other hand a playful lick and a grin, before setting his mouth fully back down on it and letting his eyes flutter shut. With another strong pull, Prom brushed his palm with a loving thumb.

The boy did his best to wrap around him, even if it hindered the movement of the wet heat around his dick, trying everything to be close.

The gunman remembered a lover like this, and never exactly loved, and all of the countless nights they had spent together. He recalled nights spent with Noct, craving every ounce of closeness and warmth the prince had for him.

Prompto gasped, sensation of the firmness rhythmically hitting the back of his throat tapping into the corners of mind he had tried for years not to tread. A low grade panic swelled and threatened his calm, suddenly feeling _too close, too familiar._ The old ache that drove him to drink rocked in his chest, washed with new guilt for bringing it to the being who was _not Ardyn_ in his mouth.

Love, manic and unyielding, tried to fill in as a stopgap, and he held onto Jay’s hand, the only anchor keeping him in the moment.

Instead, the boy pulled him up into his arms, fell half backwards as he did, and held onto him. Had he noticed something was not quite right?

It wasn’t fair.

At least, so Prompto would consider as hot tears welled up and stung his eyes as he was gathered up in Jay’s embrace. The boy only held him tighter still as a vague sob shook him, arms snaking back around the thin waist surrounded by coat.

It wasn’t fair someone so new could read him so well. It wasn’t fair that he looked the way he did, but it was worth considering that there was no way any of it could transpired without the resemblance Jay shared to Prompto’s former adversary.

"I'm sorry," the golden voice said and meant an all-encompassing everything that seemed to include every little thing Prompto had to endure in his life.

Jay was trying his best not to scream. The Astral gave him willingly and without comment, fear and loneliness and regret and shame rolling over him in blazing waves, not blessing him with context, just with raw agony. It was among the worst she had shared with him, and as every time, he silently prayed she'd stop before he'd lose himself in it.

Prompto only gently wept, fully collapsing and curling up onto him.

The boy held him tight, held onto him as he did in these times, trying his best not to hold on to any of what washed through him. _Let it seep into dust and ashes, where it belongs. There's nothing but sadness here anyway._

“I don’t hate you, I don’t” Prompto breathed, wetness pooling from his eyes, nose, and mouth onto Jay’s shoulder “... you didn’t do anything wrong.” The breath was a whine, and the old blond clung onto him desperately. “I’m sorry I’m like this.” Voice hardening, Jay would try to believe him even if he himself felt like he was coming up short.

"It's the dead man you see in me, but more than him, right? Folks that were..." the golden voice took on a strange tinge, "... not your enemy."

“It’s just been a while since I liked anybody, I guess.” Prompto laughed, trying to hoist up the mood he was sure he had spoiled somehow.

"I'm trying to work here, you know?" A sad little chuckle and a kiss on his forehead. "White mage and all that jazz."

“Next time,” relief sounded in his tone, “Let me know when you’re doing it, okay?” He kissed the boy lightly. “I’ll bring tissues.”

"It's not always my decision, you know?" _It's not, most of the time. Sometimes, when I ask nicely._ "Usually, I try it in a warmer place with my dick in my pants."

Prompto straightened, sitting up but taking Jay’s hand again. They both had gone soft by that point, and after a second he stood up, taking up the wine again, mostly empty at this point. After a gulp, he near finished it.

“Well, let’s at least do this right.” His stomach growled, protesting the excess alcohol. “...and maybe we should eat something.”

"See? Reasonable adult after all..."

“Like there was any _doubt._ ”

*

A short time after, Prompto had called a car, already warmer with the wine and AC. It wasn’t terribly far back to the ambassador’s place, but long enough for the blond to place an order for food for the both of them.

The boy opted for something spicy, no meat, and soup, ‘if you are paying’, and dessert, too, and maybe starters for both of them, because they could ‘totally have the rest for breakfast’, right?  
Once they finally arrived at their destination, closer to Gralea proper and across the city from the club or Jay’s, the difference between the two sides and where they fell economically in the years since the Empire fell had become clearly visible.

The building was tall, all glass, dark and sleek, reminiscent of old Insomnia (not that Jay would know), but without the needless flourishes that the old architecture was so fond of. This left it feeling cold, more in line with the Gralean clean lines and pragmatic structure that had defined its buildings for years.

“I actually only moved in a few years ago, Iggy, uh, my folks over in Lucis insisted after a weird security thing.... uh, yeah. Got a doorman now.” Prompto felt awkward, and not for the first time missed the campers he has taken to holing up in in the years after the war and before it, cramped as they were.

Prom led Jay into the building, past the cold chrome and glass doors and stern looking gentleman who nodded at the greying blond. A small eyebrow twitch at his guest was about all Jay could spot in regards to a reaction, but they continued on to an elevator.  
“There’s a pool somewhere, I think. Gym too. 4th floor. It’s nice.”

The wrinkly freckles tried a reassuring grin, feeling like everything he hated.  
"Feels like an office, doesn’t it? Super-corporate." The boy rubbed the goosebumps that had risen on his arms. "Not _you." Again a thing to make someone you love happy?_  
A dry laugh. “Eh, you aren’t wrong.” And the doors dinged open, leading to a hallway with only one door and too many security cameras.

With a sigh, Prompto opened the door, lighting seamlessly coming on as they entered. It was just as sleek as the rest of the building, but full of boxes that had never been unpacked, like he’d moving soon. He wasn’t.

Jay roved around like a cat exploring a new home, dropping the moist coat carelessly on the floor. Touching a box here, a wall there. Shaking his head in the end, adding a decided "No."  
“‘No’, what?”

"There is nothing of you here. I mean, your stuff, sure, but... you don't dream here. Don't eat here. You accept this place because the sleep is light and free of thoughts, but that is all." A questioning gaze, his hand on a box full of old prints Prom kept mainly for sentimental value.  
Prom looked on edge as Jay’s hand lingered on the box. “I mean, I live at work nowadays.”

Peeling himself from the spot by a bathroom door, he went to a small bar, the only thing set up in fact in the whole apartment. A coffee table and sofa took up so much space among the boxes near Jay, with a camera and several lenses on the table and empty glassware to accompany it.  
"You could start pissing in the corners to make it your home. Or tell me to shut up and piss off, because I'm talking to much. Just fair." A half-hearted grin, arms around his body. He was in jeans and a faded grey hoodie and looked like a sore spot in the pristine apartment.

When Prompto ended up taking out a small box away from the bar instead of drink, Jay quirked a brow. Without a word, Prompto plopped down on the couch and proceeded to roll a joint. He looked up at the kid, gesturing with his head.

“I didn’t think I’d blink and it’d be four years later. Your idea is as good as any.”

"You're in here for four years already? Shit, dude." Shoes followed the coat, and soon after, the boy landed on the sofa next to him, bringing the boxes of food with him. "Shall we try and move in? Might be about time."

A smirk crossed Prompto’s face as he finished licking the rolling paper. “You wanna move in with me? Start growing plants on the balcony?” He asked cheekily. Jay looked over to the high windows and only now realized that one of them was a door, leading out to an entirely unused balcony, not even serving as storage space. Had the ambassador ever been out there?  
"Well-- maybe. If it helps." That sounded strangely severe, especially for someone just unpacking takeaway.

“Helps with what?” Prompto lit the joint, flame illuminating his face briefly as it caught. Inhaling gently, he smiled, holding it out to the redhead. The earlier storm had passed, leaving the shuttered blinds to cast a golden sunset in thin lines through the curled mohawk.

"You. Everything." The boy inhaled. Held his breath and let go, a slow, dramatic cloud of smoke around him, a dame meaning trouble in a film noir. "And you at least could use some plants."  
Smoke exited the grin on the blond’s face.  
“Okay, well, we’ll talk about it.” Jay passed the joint back to him, and Prompto ashed into an empty glass. A pause as Jay moved to open the take out, blue eyes glazing over a bit as Prom fell into thought. “How does that work anyway? You healing?” He took another drag, side eyeing the kid.

"You're pretty pragmatic about all that stuff. That's-- new. Usually folks don't take it so lightly, but-- you've seen things. Or you think I'm just decent enough at coldreading." He had decided to start with the soup, plastic bowl close to his face, drinking straight out of it. Avoiding the blue eyes.

Prompto held it so long the smoke puffed out from his lips in a sharp cough. “It’s not that new for me,” voice hoarse, he opened his own food quickly after.

"Read that your love's fam was a bunch of naturals with it? Blessed by the Astrals and all that?"  
The greying blond bristled, about to pop a fried dumpling into his mouth. “He wasn’t my.... He wasn’t _mine_ , but yeah. It was the monarchy’s _special abilities_. Not healers, exactly.” Prom finally threw it down his trap and chewed as the joint was passed back to Jay. “Knew a healer once, though. Kinda. We were penpals.”

"Cool." A little burp, and he stretched long limbs. "Could he really heal? Cause I can't. Just went with that white mage-tag of yours, because it was... easy? And I didn't think you'd believe me anyway."

Another drawn out pause, glassy blue eyes getting distant again. Blinked, before looking over Jay’s form. “Well, it was... you?” Prompto’s voice curled upward uneasily. Jay was giving him a look.

“Not you, but him? I mean, he got me out of a tight spot once, but I really didn’t want him to...”  
"Hrm." The boy put the empty bowl on the table. Remained sitting there, hands in his lap, head bowed down heavy. "You hated him then already?"

“He lied.” It was a simple statement, once said with heat, but now only a shrug.

“I mean, for the most part I hated him. He was, creepy and imposing, and a murderer.” The gunner tried to block out the loneliness and sickly bittersweet longing that underlied the old resentment, even if the boy beside him could sense it.

The pretty face turned towards him, just a little, red strands - no, this wasn't his natural color, not completely, the way the hair glistened in the dying sun whispered chemistry - over the amber eye. "Hrm," he repeated. Mused. "And yet, he put a spell on you. Felt that way, at least?"  
Prompto gulped hard.

“I... always thought he was hot.” Self consciously laughing to himself, he relit the joint that had gone out between them. Inhaled deeply and let his eyes slide shut. A moment, and he exhaled. “I think he knew. Helped out my crew, yeah, that includes the prince. I probably, I dunno, batted my eyes at him or something because he... wouldn’t leave me alone. Turns out he was the Chancellor of Niflheim, right as old Insomnia fell. Walked us right into his plan. But kept... helping?” He looked to Jay. “It was weird. Then he killed Noct’s, uh, the prince’s, fiancée. Not that he was looking to get married, but Luna...”

The blond’s lower lip looked like it wanted to tremble and he looked off again. A sigh, and he turned back to Jay. “You heard of The Astral War?”

Prom’s food had gone cold.

The boy had his head in both of his hands now, clutching on tightly. The name of the dead Oracle and the emotions that came with it hit him like a whip. "Luna--"

Prompto snapped out of his haze at the sight of the kid. “Hey, you okay?” He snuffed out the joint.

"She... she saved you, right? Everything that went right in your life was thanks to her, and then I... he... just goes and breaks everything apart, just like that..." Pale knuckles even whiter with pressure.

“Uhh... Yeah, how did you know?” The hair on the back of the blond’s neck stood on end.  
"What _happened_ , Prom? I just... you're pouring your heart into that one name and into me, but I... there's no pictures for it. No _sense_ , not for me--"

Sighing, Prompto got up and retrieved the box of photos.

All of them. Even the scores he had of _him_.

He sat back down, passing it to Jay.

“Apparently when you decided to cross Bahamut, he made you into a monster.”

Trembling hands sorted through two or three, but put them away. He let himself drop back into the pillows. “Too much for now. Way too much. Just that one moment, when he killed. When you started hating. When he _disappointed you_.“

Prompto blushed, taking the box away from him. “I’m sorry... I didn’t mean-” He sighed. “I shouldn’t have said anything.”

“You _didn't_.“ Jay tried to catch his hand, but was too slow. Hovered over the table, a little smile that gave away an oncoming migraine. “Sorry. I fucked up again.“

“No...” Prom grasped his hand. “You, Jay, didn’t do anything.”

“I'm trying to talk about shit long gone you really really don't wanna talk about, and that after a ridiculously short time, and I don't have any right to do that, because it _hurts_ you, and that's not cool, and--“ He spoke to fast, stumbling over his own syllables.

Another hand came up and ran itself through red hair, and Prompto smiled lovingly at him. A gentle thumb caressed his cheekbone.

“It’s okay, it _helps_. Like you said.”

“I... I just can't compile too much at once.“ A long, desperate breath, trying to calm himself down. “Bathroom?“

Prompto pointed to the bathroom, withdrawing and shifting back. Jay stood up uneasily, and blue eyes watched him as he exited the room. Decided to heat up his food, just to keep himself busy.

The boy managed to get there with wobbly knees. Dropping onto them as soon as the door closed behind him, crawling on hands and knees towards the toilet bowl, not bothering to turn on the light. The glow of the small LEDs of toothbrush and razor hung in the air like fireflies, just bright enough to find the way.

He brought his head over the bowl, lucky that the seat was already folded up, and heaved without much hesitation, glad that the soup took away some of the acidity of the wine. Remained there for a bit, unsure if there was more to come.

Usually, things weren't that bad, but then, this wasn't a safe place, and the old man was a way bigger piece to chew than he normally bit off, like thirty years of seen-horrible-shit bigger, and usually, he avoided opening up to people like that. _Or at all. Fuck. And then I go and trigger some trauma, cause I look like a dead magical guy. Lakshmi, sweet Lakshmi, why are you doing this to me?_

The sour stench got to him, and he brought up a weak arm to flush.

Meanwhile, the small microwave built above a stovetop spun a plate of take out around and around, a bad metaphor for the thoughts in Prom’s head.

He was frowning, the distorted reflection from the inky black fridge opposite him looking back at him with unease. He could hear the wretching as he passed by and knew he should have eased up. It was just too easy.

But Prom had visited several doctors and the like over the course of the past twenty years and by that point he had just taken to what little bit of Cor had rubbed off on him by that point. _He’s just a kid, he has nothing to do with this. Leave him out of it._

The plate ding’ed behind him.

Jay wondered briefly if he was ready to get up and decided against it. The cold tiles of the floor were a better idea, and he laid down on them like a starfish, waiting for his body to calm down.  
"Prom?" he asked into the darkness.

Just as the blond was reaching into the fridge for a ginger ale, he heard Jay’s call. Within a moment, the door opened and he was kneeling down next to him. “Oh shit, are you okay?”  
"What if you're right? And I am _him_? And that is why she led me here?" He tried to sit up. Mumbled a little "Fuck. Thirsty."

“Water or-? How’s your stomach? I don’t have tea but I can make some ginger ale flat for you-“ the blond ducked up and out of the bathroom again, Jay still prone on the ground.

"Water is--" He sighed. Said "--just fine, really" to the bathroom's cool air. A faint smell of artificial sea breeze. Second try sitting up did the trick, and he leaned against the closest wall.  
Prompto came back with both in hand anyway, holding out the water to Jay. He accepted gladly, if not meek, and Prom frowned. “I’m sorry, I’ll ease up. If you want I can sleep on the couch and you’re free to take the bed...” The old gunman knew he was going too hard, too fast. This was only the second time they had been around each other.

The boy slowly shook his head. "It's cool. Cool." Careful sips of his glass. "You're very brave, you know?"

Prompto made a face. “No.”

"You go on. You try to make the world a better place. That's pretty brave."

" _Try_ is a keyword. I dunno if I've done anything."

"We can't do anything but _try_ , you know?"

They sat for several minutes, until Jay had sipped enough water to make a dent in the glass.  
"How are you feeling?"

"Been worse." A little chuckle. "Sober, too."

"That's... probably a good thing." Prompto nodded, patting Jay on the shoulder. "There's still more food, if you need to eat again to uh, you know, replace what you lost."

“Feel like you can give me some context while we eat?“

"Hm?" Prompto was entirely taken out of his earlier reverie, moving to help Jay stand carefully. After maneuvering him back to the couch, he grabbed several blankets and progressively threw them over his guest. He himself had gotten more water afterward, the whole thing shaking him more than he was going to admit.

“Luna. You _adored_ her, right?“ He sat in his blankets like in a quite comfy tortilla.

“Uh, yeah.”

Prompto wasn’t looking at him, too busy finally setting up space to eat a meal while sitting next to the pile of blankets.

“Tell me how she met her end.“

Prompto looked at him skeptically. "Should I get a bucket for this time?"

“I think...“ He tried to put on a brave face, but nodded in end. “Please, yeah. Just in case.“

Once a bucket had been retrieved, Prompto sat down and made it a point to eat for at least several more minutes, leaving the question hanging in the air. He sighed, finally sitting back and crossing his arms. Eyeing the wall opposite the couch and not at all the person that sat beside him, he cleared his throat. "So, the Astrals were real. Luna was the Oracle, it was her job to call them and get them to agree to help us _save the world_. She was speaking with the Hydrean in Altissa and--" a breath, "Ardyn stabbed her. She probably bled out protecting Noct or something, but we never found her body."

His detached way of telling it this time seemed to help, or maybe it was because the initial shock was already over. Jay still looked kind of sick, but not violently so.

“So you never could say hello nor goodbye to her? Not really?“ he asked gently.

“No.”

“That sucks. A lot.“

“It did, yeah.” A pause, and Prompto actually moved to eat again, of all things. “Anything else you want to know?”

“You want to?“

A laugh, and Prompto carefully considered clones while looking at a dumpling. Blue eyes darted back to Jay. “Maybe later. You look pretty beat.” After sitting back again, he reached an arm over his shoulder and tried a smile.

“Am. Still. Won't be easy or quick, but... we can leave a message in the inbetween. Maybe she finds it.“

The boy cuddled against him.

Smile falling, he was glad Jay couldn’t spot his face as he held him tighter. He was distraught.  
“You can do that?”

“We can't really talk. I mean, I tried that, Ouija board and all, but... didn't feel safe. But we can say Hello and that we miss them. I do that with my mum, sometimes.“

“... Does it hurt you?” It was a careful question, a cheek burying its way into red hair.

“Naw, it's fine. We're just leaving presents for those that are at peace now. But really, thank you for asking. Appreciated.“ A slight rub of the head against Prompto's.

“... Ok, what do you need me to do?”

“Find her a present, and, well... meditate? Think about her? Memories, and things you wanna tell her? And then go to a place she might like, and we'll take care of the rest then.“

“That might take a while.” Prompto wrapped both arms around Jay, kissing him on the head. “How are you doing?”

“Good food and good company, what more could I wish for?“ He giggled. “Just waiting for my stomach to calm down a bit more, then things should be fine. And you?“

“Tired.”

In the wake of sundown, the apartment lights had progressively dimmed on, providing a gentle warm light that filled the room. “Sorry that every time I try to blow you, something goes wrong.”  
A wry laugh.

“We're only at two out two on the cursed BJ-count. That's not scientific yet, right?“

A high pitched laugh escaped Prompto’s mouth. “I dunno if I want to see the science behind that.” A sigh through his grit teeth as he contently held the boy.

“Wanna watch a movie and chill for a bit and see where the night takes us?“

Jay was still waiting for the usual instinct to flee the situation. The man was really kind, sure, but madness had slicked through him long ago and mixed with the dark stains cruel times had left on his heart.

Prompto just smiled into curly hair.

“Sounds good. What do you want to watch?” The older man pointed to the remote on the coffee table, Jay leaning forward to get it before he passed it to Prom and a simple television feed appeared on the wall opposite them.

"Your house, your choice."

In the end, Prom wasn't really sure why he selected a spooky movie. The boy was already in his arms and probably not the type to need a strong man to hide behind, but the evening just felt like even more ghosts. What sounded interestingly weird from the roundup turned out to be a beautifully photographed, trippy piece that woke his urge to get behind a camera again.

His young guest on the other hand, was not as enchanted, falling asleep after a few spoons of cold rice and half an hour. His little breakdown seemed to have taken more out of him than he had admitted, but then he lay atop of Prom and was warm and _there_ , and it was nice not to be alone for a change.

It wasn’t long before Prompto realized he was _in_ one of the rooms in the horror movie, and although a part of his brain made the note that he had probably nodded off with the boy on the couch, a larger part of him wanted to know why he was there. And after all, he didn’t want to spoil the movie. Proceeding through a door and down a hall, he noticed that it was not as he remembered, but oddly twisting and warped and a little too much like Noct’s place back in Insomnia. Just as he rounded a corner half expecting to see the king, he walked straight out of a bathroom at the Crown City Zoo.

Jay waited for him outside in a slouchy sweater and matching bag, giving a slight wave; they were on a date. Prompto walked up to him, running a hand through red hair. Shaking off what was a very weird flashback, Prompto went to join him as they made their way to the next exhibit, the Nocturnal Arena.

As they made their way through the entryway, Jay smiled at him, and while Prompto returned it in kind, a hand grasped his own. With a blush and a chuckle, the older man looked away, hoping they wouldn’t get any strange looks.

Most of the exhibit’s inhabitants were sleeping, as it was midday, but that didn’t stop Jay from leaning up against the glass to see them better, pouring over every exhibit, but still careful enough not to disturb. Prompto grinned at him, and for a moment, nothing else mattered.  
They eventually rounded the end of the room, and moved to entered the adjoining dark room, only labeled ‘Bahamut’.

Jay paused. His bag was gone, forgotten somewhere. The hand in his slipped away, but he would be right back while Prom stepped into the next room. The door shut behind him.  
He was alone.

Prompto looked around, searching the dark and expansive room. Nothing was there. It was silent. There was no exhibit. He turned around to leave, but had lost the position of the door in the dark.

“Jay?”

Nothing.

A growing sense of dread filled his gut, panic welling up in his lungs. Walking forward into darkness, he tried to make out something, anything at all, when he felt a breeze brush the back of this arms and neck. It was nothing at first, and Prompto dismissed it, taking a few more hurried steps. But then, a storm descended, and the blond twisted to see behind him. At that moment, a large sword came down and ran him through the sternum down.

He jumped awake, arms still tight around his lover on the couch. The TV had powered off, leaving them in the darkness.  
“Jay,” Prompto started, needing to know the other was really there, bringing his face into red hair.

"Mrh?" A little tired grunt. "Sorry, I-- Prom? Wassup?"

He eased up his grip on the kid, sighing heavily. “Eh, nothing. We should try to make it to the bed tho, at least.”

Sluggishly, he led Jay out from the pile of blankets and into the bedroom. It matched the rest of the apartment, if not for the bed that was very lived in. It was insanely comfortable, at least compared to the couch, and Prom kissed the sleepy boy’s head and left to clean up the room after he tugged him under the covers.

Unease sat in his cut, and the greying blond tried not to jump when he felt a breeze from a nearby window. He hadn’t dreamed so vividly in ages, but hadn’t stopped since... well, he met Jay.

Sighing, he put away the empty food containers and dishware into the kitchen. Returning to the bedroom, he spied the languid way the boy laid out, and tried to keep his heart from fluttering.  
Before long, he joined him, sliding his way under the blankets. After taking Jay’s hand, Prompto fell quickly back under.


End file.
